


Puzzle Pieces

by generalwastedisposal



Series: Comfort [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9433091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalwastedisposal/pseuds/generalwastedisposal
Summary: Jasmine is all curves. Love hidden in the crest of her back and in the slow swing of her smile. Her voice too, Pippa thinks. All twists and no sharp turns, no sharp edges.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I TRIED TO WRITE FLUFF but it got a 'lil angsty in the middle my bad. My little gay heart can't handle these beautiful humans.

  “You know, the first time I heard you sing I cried.”

  “Shut up.” Jasmine says and nuzzles into Pippa’s shoulder, soft and warm.

 “That first rehearsal you came to. I went into the bathroom and I cried.” Jasmine smiles, tilts her chin up for a kiss. They pull apart but not really, foreheads still connected, breathing each other in.

  The door swings open and they jump, pull apart frantically as Renée walks in. She laughs, sits down at the mirror. “There’s no point in hiding it you know.”

   Pippa turns white and tries to hide but Jasmine is there in a second, fingers down her spine and sweet words in her ear. If Pippa is a feather in the wind, Jasmine is her anchor. Pippa realizes that the metaphor doesn’t make much sense, but neither do they.

  Jasmine is all curves. Love hidden in the crest of her back and in the slow swing of her smile. Her voice too, Pippa thinks. All twists and no sharp turns, no sharp edges.

   Pippa, on the other hand, is all edges. Sharp angles of misplaced keys and broken ukulele strings and panic that she thinks she can hide. She can see in herself only the razor-edge of broken pieces, but that’s not what Jasmine sees.

   Jasmine can see Pippa’s edges, but she thinks they’re beautiful. Right angles to balance out Jasmine’s loops and spirals. Ten minutes early to balance out Jasmine’s ten minutes late.

  Renée coughs, and they’re reminded that she’s here now. “Seriously, it’s okay. Lin says he ships it.” Pippa laughs, musical and easy, and tells them that that’s what the kids are saying. Renée leaves and Pippa thinks for a minute, doesn’t know how to tell everyone because she doesn’t know what it is she’s telling them. It’s been all hand holding and kisses in stolen minutes and it hasn’t been a lot of talking. Jasmine does most of the talking anyways, and right now she looks Pippa straight in the face.

   “Be my girlfriend?” And Pippa laughs because she doesn’t know what to say, never knows what to say, but closes the distance between their lips easily. It’s only when Jasmine’s hands are soft in her hair and she can feel her heartbeat under the bodice of her Peggy dress that she finds the answer and pulls away to whisper it into Jasmine’s ear. The grin that spreads across Jas’s face is welcoming and warm, and Pippa feels like maybe she can soften some corners for her.

  That night they walk down to the green room hands clasped, and no one gives them a second look but to nod approvingly. Pippa can’t let herself watch say no to this, and Jasmine averts her eyes in helpless. The kiss they share in the wings after bows tops all of that, and they don’t care who is watching as Jasmine throws her head back and laughs at the wonder of it all.

~

  3am comes and Jasmine is awake when the text arrives, pinging loudly like it does more nights than not.

_Come over?_

  Jasmine is already pulling on her coat and grabbing her wallet, showing up on the familiar doorstep 10 and a half minutes later. She thinks back to last week, Pippa insisting it took 15 minutes to get to her place. She’d kissed Pippa on her nose. “That’s only if you follow all the rules.”

   Pippa follows rules, and that’s the trouble with all of this, because when Pippa opens the door she tries to act like she’s fine, because _that’s what you’re supposed to do_. Jasmine walks her to the couch and holds her close, one arm around her waist and one running through her hair, doing anything to calm her down. Pippa keeps this side of her hidden, using her series of precise protocols to keep the anxiety at bay. But Jasmine knows it gets worse at night, and _were you feeling like this earlier why didn’t you call me sooner_ wilts on her tongue as Pippa clings to her, seemingly trying to escape herself and take permanent refuge in Jasmine’s hair. Jasmine tries to stand, with the intention to go make Pippa some tea, but the whimpers of her girlfriend, _her girlfriend_ , draw her back to the couch and back to Pippa.

   “Oh, Pip.” Jasmine pushes back the sheet of dark hair and starts placing mindless kisses on her forehead, cheeks, nose. “I’m here, you’re safe.”

  _Jasmine’s here. Jasmine’s here._ Somewhere in the foggy depths of Pippa’s panic-laden brain this thought has seeped in, and she clings to it, repeating it to herself until she’s sure it must be etched on her skin. The fog clears slowly with the gentle one-two of Jasmine’s heartbeat against Pippa’s ear.

   It’s now 4am, and like so many nights before Jasmine tells Pippa to save her apologies, tells her _I’m here for you,_ holds her impossibly close. They fall into bed, curling together like they always do, and Pippa tells Jasmine that she should probably just move in. Jasmine laughs, but she hopes Pippa’s not joking. Pippa is almost asleep now, drifting off while she snuggles ever closer to Jasmine. Jasmine thinks she’s asleep, assumes she’s asleep, and doesn’t expect an answer when she whispers “I love you.”

  Pippa honestly thinks she’s asleep too, until she hears three words that grab her by the heartstrings and pull her out of her daze. She doesn’t sit up, but kisses some part of Jasmine, her arm maybe? And speaks, “I love you.”

~

  The next couple weeks are just like before, except kisses don’t have to be stolen anymore and they walk around the city hand in hand.

   As it turns out, Pippa wasn’t kidding, and Jasmine gets a toothbrush in her bathroom. Followed by a bottle of her favorite shampoo, and the kind of coffee that she likes in Pippa’s cabinet. Pippa doesn’t tell Jasmine any of this, that’s not how she does things. But she always wakes up before Jasmine and makes her coffee, and she always dances with her when Jasmine finally moves her record player into Pippa’s living room.

   3am still comes some nights, but Pippa is getting better about taking her meds and with Jasmine’s urging, practicing self-care.

    Pippa teaches Jasmine how to cook, and Jasmine teaches Pippa that sometimes it’s okay to leave the dishes until tomorrow.

   Jasmine, stumbling across a grocery list on a counter, discovers Pippa’s handwriting is a messy scrawl, and laughs until she cries. “I knew your brain worked too fast for you to have neat handwriting.”

   Some nights, they go out after the show with their friends, bodies piled in a booth, Pippa beatboxing while Oak and Lin swap freestyle verses.

   Most nights though, they come home to Pippa’s apartment, _our_ apartment, she says. Sometimes they turn on the TV and sometimes they don’t, and they sit on the couch and kiss for hours. Pippa loves kissing Jasmine because she treats it like the main event. Some nights, they stumble into the bedroom, shedding clothing as they move down the hall.

   But other nights, they climb into bed together with cups of tea, and Jasmine hums to herself or scats under her breath as she combs her fingers through Pippa’s hair. Pippa is still a little rigid, and Jasmine a little curved, but as they lie together in a tangle of limbs, it’s like placing the last pieces in a puzzle. All of a sudden, you can’t see the edges at all.


End file.
